Underneath it All
by Kalexico
Summary: Quinntana Week Day 6: Crossover!AU. Harry Potter. Slytherin!Santana and Ravenclaw!Quinn are their Houses' Quidditch Captains and arch enemies. How will Santana handle having to ask for Quinn's help when her grades are dropping?


_****Quinntana Week 2012, Day 6: Crossover!AU.****_

**A/N: This fic contains Glee characters set in the Harry Potter universe, brilliantly created by JK Rowling. Thank you **CheshireRyan** and Nayanna Rivergron for your advice!**

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><p>The cozy fire is crackling beside Quinn Fabray as she sits huddled up in one of the Common Room's immense chairs. The circular room is deserted as most of the other Ravenclaws are either in the library or having dinner in the Great Hall. With a heavy sigh, she drops her quill on the piece of parchment before her, leaving ink stains all over her hard work. She drops her head on her arms and tries her hardest to cheer herself up. She reminds herself of all the victories she's led the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team to.<p>

"Knut for your thoughts?"

Quinn quirks and eyebrow and looks up, her tired hazel eyes meeting those of her best friend: Mike Chang.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone."

Mike rolls his eyes, a habit he has taken over after spending too much time with Quinn. "Do I need to get a Bonder?" he replies, matching her dramatic tone.

"There's no need for an Unbreakable Vow, I guess." Quinn can't stop the small smile tugging on her lips. "But I'm worried about the Quidditch game next Saturday. I've been spending ages on the strategy, but we're not playing against Hufflepuff. This is Slytherin, and Santana Lopez is their Captain. That girl is too smart for her own good and she has this fucking creepy ability to just read me. I hate it."

Mike pats her on the shoulder. "I know you do. And I don't know how she reads you either, because honestly, when you close down you're about as stone-faced as a goblin. I've known you for years and I still can't figure you out."

"I bet she's into dark magic," Quinn huffs. "It'd be just like her to spend more time shopping in Knockturn Alley than in Diagon Alley. I bet she's long found a way into the Restricted Section as well."

Mike shakes his head. "I don't believe for a second she's that bad. Santana Lopez is a lot of fire and no burn. We'll beat their asses at Quidditch, by the way. I can't imagine Santana being as devoted as you are."

"Jesse St. James is a scarily good Seeker, though," Quinn replies, frowning and biting her lip. "And nobody can deny that Santana is the best Beater of the last three centuries. I know, Mike. I read the Quidditch books."

"Quinn Fabray. You come from a family of success. You've won a thousand more Quidditch games than you've lost. You've got professional teams making inquiries about you. You are praised for your leadership qualities and your intellect when it comes to strategy. Don't tell me Santana Lopez and her bunch of babies scare you. Show me that strategy you've been working on."

She gives him the piece of parchment listlessly and gets up from her chair, stretching her limbs. She walks across the Common Room and over to the windows. They provide a stunning panorama of the castle grounds. In the distance, she can see the wind rustle the leaves of the trees of the Forbidden Forest. A stooped, giant figure is walking along the edge of it and Quinn knows it must be Hagrid. She rolls her neck and turns her face. Her heart starts beating faster as her eyes fall on the Quidditch pitch. She just can't help it. She _loves_ Quidditch and when she's being perfectly honest, she knows that she's a better Seeker than Jesse St. James could ever hope to be. Jesse St. James hasn't spent hours in the library calculating possible tracks, twists, angles. He doesn't know that even though the Snitch' behaviour is mostly random, witches and wizards have developed methods of prediction through the ages. Granted, it's never 100% accurate, but it's certainly useful. He doesn't know anything about the psychological tricks to distract your opponents. Jesse St. James is one of those silly purebloods who think that Muggle Studies are a waste of time. Quinn Fabray is one of those smart purebloods who know that even though Muggles behave in strange ways, they're not entirely stupid. Quinn knows that you can learn from everything, and that sometimes, simplicity is the key to success.

"This looks fine to me, Q," Mike's voice rings through the room. She shakes her head, confused at the sudden intrusion. She rubs her face in her hands and then walks over to her best friend, who hands her back the piece of parchment.

"Did you finish your Potions essay on Everlasting Elixirs yet?" Quinn asks distractedly.

"No, I've got a few more inches to go. Sometimes I wonder if it really matters, though. Schuester's such a bitch."

"Oh, come on, Terri is perfectly reasonable," Quinn teases him.

Mike rolls his eyes. "I can't believe she's married to Mr. Schuester. You'd think she wouldn't dream of being in the vicinity of a Muggle Studies professor."

Quinn shrugs. "Everybody knows she wants him to get the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, but I honestly can't see professor Holliday going anywhere soon."

"You just have a crush on professor Holliday."

"I do not," Quinn protests. But her face is beet red.

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_A few weeks later_

"Here you go, Merlin," Santana says gently to her owl, feeding him some of the breakfast she cut up for him. "Good boy."

Jesse scowls. He simply cannot understand how it is that the big bad Santana Lopez is a pussy in the hands of a freaking _owl_.

Santana casually opens the letters he brings her and frowns when she recognises her father's handwriting. She opens it immediately and her face whitens as her eyes scan the thick piece of parchment in her hands.

_Santana,_

_I have received a letter from professor McGonagall concerning your results. I am not pleased. I have sent Merwyn with a Howler. He should arrive at any moment. I strongly advise you to remove yourself from the Great Hall and retreat to the grounds surrounding the castle as you open this letter, so as to avoid any further shame brought upon the family._

_Javier Ramon Andres Lopez_

As soon as she folds the letter and puts it down with trembling hands, her father's owl lands in front of her. She quickly disentangles the Howler and hurries outside, making sure to snatch her father's letter and take it with her. She doesn't even bother to explain Jesse as she runs outside in an attempt to be at a reasonable distance from the castle by the time she opens the burning Howler.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mike knows something's up when he sees Quinn's satisfied grin. He puts down his cup of pumpkin juice and frowns. It must have something to do with the letter she just received. He frowns when he notices Santana Lopez storming outside with a Howler in her hands, but then directs his attention to Quinn again.

"So, what is it?" he finally gives in.

"Sometimes life is wonderful, Mike Chang. Not only did we totally beat Slytherin's - and by extention Santana Lopez' - ass at that Quidditch game a few weeks ago, but now I get to enjoy even more humiliation on her part." Her tone is full of delight.

"Sometimes I wonder how it is that you ended up in Ravenclaw, not Slytherin. What happened?"

"You see, the difference between Ravenclaws and Slytherins is that Ravenclaws don't boast about their intellect. They keep it quiet and then use it when they need it most. Element of surprise. And what happened is that Daddy has instructed me to tutor Santana Lopez in various classes. Apparently, her academic performances are far from up to par."

"What does your Dad care, though?" Mike frowns.

Quinn shrugs. "My dad and Santana's are both important men at the Ministry of Magic. You know what politics is like - it's all about favours. This is just perfect."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So," Quinn smiles sweetly as she corners Santana in the fifth-floor bathroom. "I heard you need tutoring. How about Wednesday at 5?"

Santana squints her eyes at Quinn. "You know Slyherin has Quidditch practice then."

"Oh, that's right," Quinn says, her voice laced with false pity. "You guys need it, don't you? Look at how horribly you played a few weeks ago."

"Listen up, blondie. I'm a Lopez and you don't _talk_ to me like that."

"I'm a Fabray, and _you_ don't talk to _me_ like that," Quinn hisses. "And remember, Santana. I'm the one helping you out here and if I know anything about your Dad, he won't be too pleased if he hears about your refusal to be tutored."

"You're a bitch, Fabray," Santana snarls. "I'll find someone else."

Quinn frowns. "Okay, first of all - is that all you can come up with? Secondly, do you really think you can swallow that awful pride of yours and actually ask someone for help?" She brings her face closer to Santana's, until their lips are merely inches apart. Quinn licks her lips and smiles devilishly. "Come on, Lopez. We'll have so much _fun_."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I don't understand," Quinn frowns. "How in Merlin's name are your grades that bad when you know all of this perfectly well?"

Santana shrugs. "A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."

"What does that even mean?" Quinn asks, annoyed.

Santana grins wickedly. "I thought you were the Ravenclaw."

"I could always write to my father that you're not participating at all and I've just given up on you because I can't take your shit anymore. He'd be more than happy to report that back to your Dad."

Santana narrows her eyes. "You are one conniving bitch."

"Thanks," Quinn smiles sweetly. "So, what's the deal? Why are you failing left, right and center when you don't have to?"

Santana sighs. "What's it to you, Fabray?"

"I'm just curious as to why you would humiliate yourself to the point that your father sends you a Howler when there's no need for it. The Santana Lopez I know is too proud to let that happen."

"Well, you don't know Santana Lopez," she snarls. "You know nothing about me so don't just fucking assume I'm doing this for fun."

"Santana," Quinn says through her teeth, grabbing Santana's arm and forcing her to look her in the eye. "Tell me right now why you're putting yourself through this."

A long silence follows.

Quinn quirks an eyebrow.

"Fine," Santana gives in. "Your Dad's got the same job as mine. You know what it's like."

"I know what what's like?"

Santana throws her hands in the air. "You know, your Dad never being home when you're little. Your Dad just never being there and the few times he is, he's just so damn preoccupied that he doesn't give a fuck about you. And all he talks about is being pureblood and making the family proud and that shit. So you go to Hogwarts and you get really good grades to make him proud but he doesn't even fucking notice. For a while, I was convinced he forgot that I existed."

"So you're doing this just so your father would give you some attention?" Quinn asks incredulously. "Wow. That's... wow."

"Okay, now it's your time to confess. When are you going to put Noah Puckerman out of his misery?"

"What are you talking about?" Quinn asks, genuinely confused as to why Santana brings up the Hufflepuff Beater.

"Oh, come on," Santana rolls her eyes.

_If we'd ever have kids, they'd sure roll their eyes a lot._

_Woah - Fabray - you did _not _just think that!_

"So?" Santana prods.

"What did you say?"

Santana makes a show of sucking in a deep breath, displaying patience she really doesn't have. "I said - you can't seriously tell me you don't notice the way he drowns in his own drool whenever he sees your fine ass."

"... my fine ass?"

Santana blushes furiously. "You know what I mean."

"You think I have a fine ass?" Quinn teases.

"No, I don't," Santana huffs, crossing her arms. "Anyway, that's no answer to my question. And I want an honest one."

Quinn looks into Santana's eyes for a long time, mulling over the answer in her head. She knows that trusting Santana Lopez is about the most stupid thing one could ever do, but then Santana had been honest with her as well. She could've easily lied, but she didn't.

"Okay." Quinn takes a deep breath. "The truth is, I don't care about Puck. I know all the girls think he's so hot, but he really doesn't do it for me. I don't care about Sam or Finn or any of those guys."

"Does that mean you care about some other dude? Is it boy Chang? Or some nerd? Oh Merlin - don't tell me you've got the hots for Jewfro," Santana babbles, wide-eyed.

"Of course not," Quinn laughs nervously. She looks down at her hands, purses her lips. "I... I don't care about anyone in particular. I don't care about any of those guys, and mostly because I don't..." Quinn gets stuck in her own words.

"Because you don't care about guys at all?" Santana finishes her sentence with a softness in her voice Quinn can't say she's ever heard before. She's done it again - read her mind.

Quinn slowly nods.

She braces herself for a scowl, for a laugh, for a gleeful, evil glint in Santana's eyes. She's prepared for a loud outburts, a hollow laughter, for Santana running out of the room to go and tell everyone on her way.

She's not prepared for a set of full, soft lips on hers.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The kiss seems to last for ages, but Quinn knows that it can only have been a few seconds in reality. She catches her breath, utterly confused. This doesn't make sense to her - not the way her books and her classes do. Finally, she finds her voice to ask one question: "You, too?"

Santana looks away. "But keep your mouth shut. Nobody can ever find out."

Quinn nods. "No. Nobody can ever find out."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hog's Head, this weekend," Santana mutters as the sixth year Ravenclaws and Slytherins file out of the _History of Magic_ classroom.

"Very romantic," Quinn replies sarcastically, but nodding her consent.

They part ways. Mike and Jesse both frown at the small token of interaction, both shrug, their backs toward each other.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Ready to lose?" Santana calls out to Quinn across the Entrance Hall.

Quinn flips her the finger.

Santana licks her lips. She knows what it's code for.

Thirty minutes later, Santana is wishing Quinn luck properly, in a deserted corridor on the seventh floor, behind a tapestry of a knight chasing a few trolls. Santana's name tumbles off Quinn's lips as she goes deeper and deeper inside. Finally, Quinn screams out Santana's name - but Santana makes sure to muffle the sound with her lips.

Ravenclaw wins the game against Gryffindor.

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_One year later_

Quinn's lip nearly bleeds from biting it as she watches the Quidditch game from the stands anxiously. It's hard to pretend to be rooting for Hufflepuff when she really wants her girlfriend to win her final Quidditch game at Hogwarts.

She can feel the adrenaline rushing through her body, and she's not even playing. She's completely focused on the game developing in front of her eyes, any other sound completely tuned out.

She blinks.

It can't be true.

It _can't _be true!

But it has to be.

Oh Merlin. Merlin Merlin Merlin.

She shrieks when she fully realises that Jesse St. James _really_ caught the Snitch, deliviring the final win for Santana Lopez as Captain. To her friends' surprise, she jumps up and runs off the stands, onto the Quidditch pitch, right into Santana's arms.

Before Santana can stop her, Quinn has jumped into her arms and is kissing her passionately for the entire school to see. At first, Santana is surprised and her instinct is to push Quinn away, ready to throw a slew of insults at her. But then she feels Quinn's happy tears on her own cheeks, because this is her last game. This is her last year. She doesn't have to depend on her father anymore. She doesn't have to care about _him_ anymore. It's her turn now.

So she kisses Quinn back, pouring all the love she has strangely developed over the months into the kiss. The world disappears around them, but Santana knows that when it comes back, it'll be _theirs._


End file.
